Change Is Good
by nico420
Summary: This is about the end of the Hey Arnold! movie and the aftermath. "'Change is good.' That's what Scheck had said. That's what Arnold was trying to avoid. Change. And for the most part, he had succeeded. For the most part, everything had remained the same. Everything except for his relationship with Helga G. Pataki." Arnold/Helga
1. Prologue

(I do not own Hey Arnold! or any of the following characters.)

I was watching the Hey Arnold! movie the other day, and I love the scene near the end, where Arnold and Helga are sharing an awkward moment with each other, and can't bring each other to be honest about their feelings, so they decide to act like nothing ever happened, while at the same time, insinuating that things were different; and I thought, _this is what their relationship would probably be like, now. Helga would probably just tease Arnold, instead of bullying him, while he just stood there, looking at her with those half-lidded eyes that say, "I can see through your act."  
_

The first chapter is about that scene, and the rest is about what happens after.

* * *

They did it! They saved the neighborhood! Mr. Green and Mrs. Vitello could keep their shops. Sid's and Stinky's handprints would forever remain in the sidewalk. Arnold and his grandparents could keep living like before. Nothing would change! Things worked out for everyone. Well, everyone but Scheck and Nick. Even the bus driver, Murray, was able to win his girl back.

Helga and Arnold watched as the rest of the bulldozers drove away and the newly reconnected couple left to go rekindle their love or something.

Suddenly alone, they both remembered that, only an hour ago, Helga had declared her love for him. She had kissed him. They didn't really have time to think about it, until now.

They looked at each other and blushed. Arnold, realizing how close he was to Helga, took a step away from her.

"Pretty crazy day," he said, rubbing his arm, self-consciously.

"Yeah," Helga laughed, nervously. "Woo—Said some pretty nutty things back there."

"Yeah."

"Yeah... Well—u-um—about all that stuff I said, Arnold, I—I mean, it was crazy back there and—"

"With all the excitement—we just—we just kinda..."

"Got carried away?"

At first, Arnold was just too shy and embarrassed to discuss the matter, seriously, but he was completely flattered to learn that the reason Helga bullied him and paid him all that extra attention over the years, albeit negative, was because she actually loved him. She _didn't_ hate him—and she didn't like him or even "_like_ him, like him"—she _loved_ him. And when he thought about it, he could probably learn to like her, too; more than he'd ever liked Lila Sawyer or Ruth McDougal, put together, because he had been through so much with Helga. Even though she was his biggest bully, deep down, Arnold had always wanted to call her a friend. Suddenly, his previous crushes seemed so superficial.

"You didn't really mean all that, did you?" He asked, wondering if, maybe, she really _had_ just gotten carried away or something. "You don't really... _love_ me... right?"

Helga looked sad for a moment, before quickly pulling herself together. "Right," she said; obviously too embarrassed to speak the truth now that she was no longer being unintentionally pressured into confessing her feelings for him.

Arnold could see through her masquerade. He knew, now, that all those times Helga bullied him, she was just expressing her feelings in a really backwards way. It was the only way she knew how. But, now, that he knew it, she could go on expressing herself like that without worrying that he thought she hated him; or worse, thinking that he hated her. "You were just... caught up in the heat of the moment," he said.

"Right!"

"You really _hate_ me, don't you." Arnold spoke in a tone that suggested he meant the opposite of what he was saying, as if there were imaginary quotations around the word "hate"—which reminded Helga of Mr. Simmons—as he leaned in and looked at her with half-lidded eyes; a completely sultry look, if you asked her.

_Ohh!_ Helga thought. _I get it. "Everything goes back to normal."_

She could see that Arnold was aware of how she felt, and silently thanked him for making this so easy for her, as she turned away to recollect herself and put on her best signature scowl, before turning back to him to say, "Of course, I hate you, _Foot_ball Head! And don't you _ever_ forget it! _EVER!_"

"Okay," was all Arnold said, but he continued to look at her with those sultry, half-lidded eyes, as she stomped away, "angrily," and disappeared around the corner of a building.

"Yes!" She shouted, once she was around the corner, but Arnold was still close enough to hear it, and he smiled to himself.

That was the best day of Helga Pataki's life. Up until then, anyway. After six years of fantasizing, day and night, about telling Arnold how she felt—never knowing if she would ever muster up the courage to do so—her dreams had finally come true. The weight that had been growing heavier with each passing day, for the last six years, had been lifted from her shoulders; and Arnold could pretend that everything was the same, if he wanted—maybe it was, for him—but for Helga, things would never be the same again. This was a turning point in her life. No more waiting for the day she should find the courage to finally speak her heart. No more feeling guilty when she'd continue to pick on Arnold. _And I even got to kiss him!_

Meanwhile, Jerald emerged from behind a damaged bulldozer that was left behind, where he had been listening to the whole conversation. He didn't want to just leave Arnold after the incident—they had to celebrate!—but he could tell when he and Helga started talking, that, whatever they were talking about, they wouldn't be able to talk about with him around, so he quickly hid behind the bulldozer.

He didn't want to embarrass his buddy, so he acted like he heard nothing. "Well... I guess we did it, Arnold. We saved the neighborhood."

"Yup. Guess everything's back to normal," Arnold lied.

_Suuure,_ Gerald thought. "What do you say we go shoot some hoops," he said, leading the way.


	2. Chapter 1

"Change is good." That's what Scheck had said. That's what Arnold was trying to avoid. Change. And for the most part, he had succeeded. For the most part, everything had remained the same. Everything except for his relationship with Helga G. Pataki.

On the outside, everything appeared normal. Helga still picked on him and called him Football Head, though Arnold felt it was secretly a term of endearment, and she appeared to be teasing him rather than bullying, so he decided to play along; pretending her antics bothered him. Only their best friends, Gerald and Phoebe, could see their interactions for what they were. Everyone else was oblivious.

They weren't alone, often, but when they were—which was usually at the edge of a crowd—they talked, casually, making light and friendly conversation.

Helga seemed to have changed a lot, in general. She was still surly, cynical, and sarcastic (traits that, only now, Arnold was beginning to admire), but aside from threatening and yelling at Harold, the class bully who never learned not to mess with her, and occasionally punching Brainy, who had never ceased to stop following her, Helga never really bothered anyone but Arnold, anymore; which should have made things somewhat suspicious. He was actually surprised that no one had caught onto their little charade, by now.

She was still prone to anger and insecurity, as well, but she had just been so happy, ever since that day; she didn't feel the need to lash out, anymore. Knowing that Arnold probably reciprocated her feelings, at least, to some extent, made her feel less concerned with the love of her parents (or lack thereof), whose hearts seemed to have room only for Olga. Arnold's love was far more important than her parents'. She couldn't be happier if Big Bob were to suddenly start calling her by her actual name. She wasn't even bothered by the fact that Olga would be coming home soon, for a short visit. She was kind of _excited_, actually. Maybe things wouldn't be that bad, for once. After all, it was _her_ who refused to get along with her sister, in the first place. Olga really wasn't that bad. Now, that she had Arnold (or was as close to having him as she could get, right now), she didn't feel so jealous or spiteful toward her sister. Her parents could have her, for all she cared. Maybe, someday, she and Arnold could start a family of their own, and she would finally know what it means to have a loving family. _Yeah, that could happen,_ she thought.

* * *

"I still can't believe we're fifth graders," Phoebe said, on their first day of fifth grade.

"Says the girl who did time in the _sixth grade_."

"Only for a _day_ and a _half_."

With Helga, too busy paying attention to Phoebe, and Arnold, too busy talking to his friends, neither of them saw the other coming_;_ which resulted in a head-on collision. "Hey, watch where you're _goin'!—__—_Football Head." Her tone took a seductive turn when she saw who it was she bumped into.

"You're the one who walked into _me_."

"Don't pin this all on me, Ar_nol_do; if you were watching where you were going, this wouldn't have _ha_ppened."

"Fine." Arnold pretended to sigh. "Sorry, Helga."

"You better be, _Foot_ball Head. _Heh! Heh!_" Helga smirked as she walked past him.

"Garsh, Arnold. You really tick that girl off," Stinky said.

"Yeah. She must really _hate_ you, Arnold," Sid added.

"Yeah," Arnold said, dreamily. "She must."

Gerald laughed to himself, noticing the dreamy look on his face.

* * *

Arnold was thankful to have most of his friends in his class again this year, and Helga was just thankful to have Arnold and Phoebe; the only two people she really cared about. Luckily, there were no assigned seats, so she chose a seat next to her best friend.

Harold, being the last one to file in, chose the last seat available, next to Rhonda.

"_What_ do you think you're doing?" Rhonda asked.

"Sitting down?"

"Why are you sitting next to _me_?"

"_Because, there's no where else to siiit._" Harold whined.

"Well, _trade_ with someone."

"Oh, _c'mon, Rho_nda. You know you like me." Harold teased.

"I do _not_."

"_Yes, you dooo._"

The two argued back and forth, for a while, Rhonda desperately trying to preserve her image in front of her peers. Finally, the teacher showed up and started introducing himself. "Good morning, class! I'm Mr. Martin."

_At least, we do a better job of hiding it,_ Helga had thought, watching Harold and Rhonda go back and forth. _Everyone_ knew there was something going on between them.

She looked to the front of class, at the back of Arnold's head. Looks like she wasn't going to be able to pay attention in class, again, this year. _No skin off my back._ She went to make a spitball; tearing the corner of a piece of paper out of her notebook. She chewed it up, stuck a makeshift straw to her mouth, and spit the wad of paper through it, aiming directly for Arnold's head. Even though he was a couple rows ahead, it hit him. Helga was a pro at shooting spitballs.

He turned around, eyebrows furrowed, but his expression lightened when he saw the mischievous look on Helga's face.

* * *

At recess, Arnold and Gerald were playing baseball with the guys, while Helga and Phoebe sat on the picnic table, watching them from afar. Gerald and Phoebe had obvious chemistry, and flirted, discreetly, here and there, but their relationship hadn't progressed any farther than that.

Helga wished she could cheer when Arnold hit a home run.

"Good game," Gerald said, initiating their handshake.

"Wow, that was impressive," a mysterious girl said, walking toward them. Helga noted that she was in their class. "I'm Megan. What's _your_ name?"

"Who's the skirt talking to our guys?" Helga said, watching the whole thing from across the playground.

"Gerald's not my boyfriend." Phoebe blushed.

The mysterious brunette giggled; more dramatically than she should have. _Oh, yeah. She's _def_initely up to no good._

Helga was going to have to keep an eye on this one.


End file.
